


Embarrassed

by Persephone



Series: Five Years the Elder [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Brothers, Chair Sex, Embarrassment, Lolita, M/M, Rimming, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-12
Updated: 2011-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persephone/pseuds/Persephone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boromir has just turned eighteen. Suddenly he begins to experience a fever unlike anything he's ever thought possible.</p><p>Inspired by: <a href="http://tolkienfanart.com/gallery/artist_image.php?GAid=3&GPid=4&GIid=42&home=1">The Steward's Chair</a>, by E.W.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Embarrassed

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** In this story, Faramir is 13.

Embarrassed, Boromir remained standing where he was. Faramir was crossing the dim hallway with his tutor, heading for the even dimmer libraries. But even with his face burning, Boromir had to force himself not to follow Faramir to the library and simply wait till his lesson was over. After which Faramir would have another type of lesson for him.

It had been exactly fifteen days since it had first happened. At first Boromir had nearly left Minas Tirith for the shame he felt. But Faramir would not let him. And if he was honest, shame or no, he would not have left on his own.

Because fifteen days later, here he stood.

Faramir had passed a long time ago but Boromir was still standing immobile in the hallway with his mind in chaos. He loved Faramir, from the moment the boy was born. But—but at eighteen, he also knew what was right and what was wrong. And he knew he should not be expressing his love as a man did with a lover. And even then—

Boromir bit his lip until the pain made his eyes water. Even if he came to terms with needing to—to make love with Faramir, it would not be such unbearable torment if—

He could not even let himself finish his thoughts, to remember the things he did to his thirteen year old brother in the dimness of whatever corner he could secure.

And yet his mind dwelt on nothing else. For fifteen days.

Boromir realized his breathing was now nothing more than harsh breaths. He made a fist and pushed away from the wall, and it wasn’t for a few more moments that he became aware that he was heading in the direction of the library.

Helplessly, he stood in the doorway staring at Faramir. His brother was bent over some parchments with his old tutor, running his fingers over the ancient words. Faramir’s jet black hair fell across his face, but as if he knew, he lifted his eyes and locked on Boromir. And then one side of his mouth pulled up in a half smile. A much too knowing smile.

Boromir gripped the wooden door jamb until it began to splinter under his fingers. Though he was in no frame of mind to notice when his cock was already leaking badly, soaking the crotch of his britches, thankfully hidden behind his shirt.

Stop now, he silently begged Faramir. Why could a mere child have such power over him? He grunted under his breath and didn’t even bother answering his own question. Was this not Faramir?

Faramir looked up at the sound he didn’t realize he’d made so loudly. The old tutor also looked up, and on seeing him smiled slightly, and then resumed looking over the parchments.

Faramir’s eyes were half closed. “Wait,” he mouthed. Boromir pressed his trembling lips together, smoothed his hand over his stubble and stepped into the room.

“Well, we must cut short this lesson, dear teacher,” Faramir said in a clear voice, and Boromir could not help marveling at his composure. “I am afraid Boromir requires my attention at the moment.”

Boromir counted the moments as the tutor nodded and gathered up his sheaves, and was soon gone. The old man probably said something on his way out, but for Boromir it didn’t register.

A moment later, they were alone. And Faramir was standing behind the table, smiling. Boromir took one quick step forward.

“Shut the door, brother,” Faramir said quietly. Boromir stopped and did as he was told. He walked over to Faramir, already breathing harshly. His hands sweltered. His tongue slid about. His cock throbbed. Every part of him wanted a part of Faramir.

Faramir stepped backwards, moving into a corner. There he stopped when his legs bumped up against a grey stone chair that seemed to be carved into the wall. It seemed to be meant for quiet contemplation and reading, hidden as it was in the corner and obscured by heavy velvet curtains.

Boromir didn’t think he’d care if the chair was sitting in the middle of the Courtyard of Stone, right under the White Tree itself. It was going to be another site of shame.

Already Faramir was lifting his own shirt over his head. “May I see, Boromir? I want to see…that.” He pointed to Boromir’s groin. Boromir immediately lifted the front of his shirt to remove it. He heard a little gasp escape Faramir’s throat. He looked down.

“You’re so wet,” Faramir breathed.

Boromir’s face was so hot he was afraid he would die of shame. And instead of coming toward him as Boromir thought he would, Faramir stepped out of his britches and stood naked for a moment, before stepping backward to the chair. He sat down. Then he lifted both his legs and hooked them on either side on the chair’s stone arms.

Boromir’s teeth began to chatter. His eyes squinted and his jaw clenched. He took a step forward to get a closer, deeper look at Faramir’s opening.

“Take it out. I want to see, remember?”

“Please, just let me lick you first,” he heard himself say hoarsely.

Faramir pouted. “But I like seeing…”

Boromir snapped his leather thong and pulled out his cock. It was massive, and it was hard, and it was overheated.

“Oh, yes,” Faramir breathed, smiling gleefully as if Boromir had just shown him sweets. Boromir began to feel feverish. This child was going to kill him.

He dropped to his knees before his little brother and grabbed his inner thighs, pushing them farther apart. Faramir squirmed and Boromir could see him pucker. His mouth began to water and he forced himself to go slowly as he leaned in.

But once he tasted Faramir, there was no taking it slow. His grip tightened on Faramir’s thighs but he could not make himself stop. He stiffened his tongue and forced it into his brother’s squirming body, grunting, thinking that Faramir could not be any tighter, though he had taken him enough times to debase a grown man. His cock throbbed and pumped out a few more drops.

“Boromir,” Faramir panted softly. “You must go slowly. We have time.”

But Boromir wasn’t listening. How could he? He curled his tongue and licked Faramir’s inner walls, tasting depravity as deeply as he could. Faramir cried out and grabbed the back of his head, burying his fingers in Boromir’s dark hair. He pulled Boromir’s head hard against him, so that Boromir’s nose was right up against the skin covering the soft bump above his entrance. Boromir inhaled deeply and moaned wretchedly.

Then Faramir pulled even harder at his hair and Boromir reluctantly pulled back, followed as Faramir pulled his head up, to his cock. Boromir took the small cock in his mouth instantly and sucked it deeply, until his nose was tickling against Faramir’s hairs. He trapped his brother’s cock in his mouth and rhythmically sucked on it, making Faramir gasp over and over, his fingers writhing in Boromir’s hair.

When it got too much for Faramir Boromir pulled back, letting the spit slicked cock slide out and rest against Faramir’s stomach.

He slid his arms under Faramir’s legs and stood up, lifting him up to his chest where Faramir’s legs locked around his waist. Faramir then locked his lips on his and Boromir had to struggle to stand upright against that onslaught. Faramir kissed like a child, but it was filthy.

He quickly stumbled to the stone chair and sat down, setting his brother in his lap. Faramir wrapped his arms around his neck and the boy leaned down and sucked the skin of his neck into his wet, hot mouth.

“Oh, Faramir! Oh, gods!” Boromir panted helplessly, his hands shaking so badly he could not position Faramir. He simply could not do it by himself. “Help me,” he whimpered.

Faramir lifted himself, slowly sitting on the tip of Boromir’s cock. Boromir gritted his teeth and threw his head back, scraping it against the stone chair.

Faramir swiveled his hips and he gripped Faramir to stop him and thrust upwards, impaling Faramir. Faramir cried out sweetly and gripped a handful of his hair lying against his nape, then dropped his head back down and sucked harder on his flesh.

Boromir lost his mind. His finger clamped down on Faramir’s cheek, worked their way to his entrance and pushing in, until he could feel his cock against his fingers inside Faramir’s heat. With his other hand he held Faramir suspended by the hip and fucked him roughly, unable to do anything else. Faramir sucked him harder.

It was too soon, he was spurting long, endless spasms into his brother. Faramir pressed his cock against his stomach muscles, rubbing wetness all over him, and sweetly came. His childish moans forced more bouts of come out of him, so that when he finally stopped, he had tears in his eyes.

Faramir murmured delightedly and pulled himself closer. He covered Boromir’s upper lip with his own and leisurely sucked on it, and he immediately sucked Faramir’s lower lip. Leaving his cock inside his brother even though it was softening, he leisurely stroked his fingers between Faramir’s cheeks.

Already, once more he was feeling embarrassed, but even then he knew he would not sleep well until the next time. And next time, for the sixteenth time, he promised himself he would go slow.

 _End_


End file.
